


Into Our Darkness

by Merakiart



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse, Adventure & Romance, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Depression, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Magic, Mutual Pining, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Multiple, Past Abuse, Slow Burn, We're in it for the long haul guys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2019-07-16 13:37:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16087190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merakiart/pseuds/Merakiart
Summary: "You want to know why I love you? Because when I still tasted of heartache and war, you were still there. I was shattered beyond repair and abandoned by all of those that I loved. Nobody wanted me and yet, you were the only one that stayed. You saw me in all my shame. All of my darkness. You saw what I truly was and didn't turn away."When (Y/N) was abandoned by her parents as a child, she was adopted by an abusive family who neglected her for years. Several years pass by when circumstances begin to spiral out of control and a devastating tragedy occurs in her wake. The aftermath of the incident causes the Ministry of Magic to get involved and Dumbledore petitions to take the girl under his care in an attempt to protect others from her magic and his wish is granted. Now at Hogwarts, rumors begin to spread of the mysterious girl with no past. But when others avoid her out of fear, Draco Malfoy finds himself drawn to her. And she to him.This story will follow the Draco and the Reader's relationship throughout years 1-7.Disclaimer: I don’t own the rights to Harry Potter.





	1. Monster

* * *

  _ **You**_

* * *

There comes a point in life where choices become irreversible. A moment in time when the lines are blurred and there's no clear difference between good and evil. It's the moment when the world isn't simply black and white; right or wrong. But, rather—one of survival.

This was one of those times.

* * *

 

One moment his voice was thundering off the walls, the next—utter silence. And she had been the one to cause it.

The sight that lay before her was sickening. A grandiose display of both her fear and hatred for him. But also—entirely accidental. 

There was a continuous stream of blood trickling out of the numerous wounds on his body. Paired with an overpowering stench of iron that permeated the air and it made her stomach convulse at the scent. Her father's breathing was labored and slow as he tried to cling onto the last shreds of life that were rapidly slipping through his fingers. His eyes blank and unresponsive as he stared directly at her.

His lips moved, but nothing came out. Trying in vain to formulate the questions that circled his mind out loud, but not having enough strength to do it. He wondered why she had done this. Why she would hurt him. His thoughts were interrupted when he started choking on the blood that was filling his lungs and he gasped for air, but it was to no avail.   

In mere moments, his struggle for air ceased to an abrupt stop and the silence in the room became deafening. The body that had been moving only moments before now lay in a widening puddle of crimson; never to move again. The young girl, who had been watching the scene before her in shock, started to shake uncontrollably. Her mind desperately tried to catch up—to comprehend what had just happened.

She had killed him. 

A sniffle could be heard behind the quivering girl and she froze. She turned around to check on her mother and was met with the ghost of the person she once knew. The woman that lay before her was devastated; broken. A hollow shell crushed by the death of her husband as thick tears flowed in cohesive streams down her face.

Tentatively, her mother got up and brushed past to stand in front of her husband. She bent down to clutch the lifeless corpse in her arms and her body convulsed in grief. She wept for the love of her life. Her sobs pierced the stillness of the air around them like a knife before she turned to glare at the girl. When their gazes met, the growing fury in her eyes made her take a step back. 

“What have you done!?” Her mother cried. Desperate for answers (Y/N) couldn't give.

“I didn’t mean to. I swear—” She said sniffing as tears started to pool in her eyes.

“You killed him! How could you!?”

“I don’t know what happened—” 

“After all we've done for you," She pointed a finger in her face, droplets of spit flying out with every word. "this is how you repay us!? We should have never taken you in the first place!” 

“I’m sorry. I—”

“You—! You're an evil spawn of the devil! You're a monster!”

“Please, I’m sorry—” (Y/N) tried to apologize for the second time, but it was no use. 

She stormed toward the tiny figure with a vengeance, her actions were unpredictable; hasty. Raising her hands, her mother intended to strike her and all the little girl could do was lift her hands up in defense. The fear and adrenaline inside (Y/N) had continued to build up to an almost unbearable force and what little control she had was beginning to slip. Just like a cornered animal would lash out to protect itself, the magic inside her released.

Flames exploded out of (Y/N)'s hand and it instantaneously lit her mother on fire. The agonizing screams shook the inside of her skull and all she could do was watch her mother burn in horror. Watch as her clothes and hair started to singe and curl up at the edges with the intensity of the heat. The room started to permeate with the putrid smell of burning flesh and hair before she finally disintegrated right in front of her eyes. The ashes floating down to the ground in a massive heap and the room became silent once again

‘No—stop’ She pleaded. Everything was happening too fast. It felt like electric currents were leaving trails of fire in her veins and she couldn’t control it. It was overwhelming and it terrified her. 

(Y/N) wished at that moment that none of this happened or that she could forget everything up to this point. Both of them. Gone. Just like that. And...she—murdered them. She was the one who stripped them of the very breath from their lungs. They would never live to see another second because of her. 

In her panic, she hadn't noticed that the sparks from her hands had begun to set the room on fire. The carpet, the wallpaper, the ceiling—all of it had already started to blacken with the heat. Within seconds, the room was ablaze and it continued to spread with the ruthless tenacity of wildfire. Beams started to collapse and (Y/N) quickly looked around for a way to escape, but every exit was blocked. There was no way out.

Terror started to fill her lungs when she realized she might die there. The toxic smoke was cruel and unforgiving and her limbs started to weigh heavily with every intake of breath. An overwhelming sense of dizziness started to swarm her head and she fell to the floor with a thud. Tired eyes sliding shut and her mind drifting away into nothingness.

When the Ministry of Magic first got word that under-aged magic had been used, they weren't expecting this. 

The cloaked figure stood in the front of the remaining shambles of a house. Clouds of smoke and ash saturating the air as the gold embers burned faintly in the night. When the haze started to clear, he staggered at the sight. 

This wizard had seen destruction first hand, he was used to dealing with it by now. But nothing could have prepared for something like this. The sight of complete and utter devastation of both home and person alike nearly made him expel the contents of his stomach. He had to be strong. He had a mission to finish. He was to extract the girl and bring her to the Ministry. It was then they would decide what to do with her. After all, she was too dangerous on her own.

He found (Y/N) unconscious amongst the rubble of what was once her home. Her body was covered in ash, but as far as he could tell—she sustained no injuries from the fire. He knew she wasn't normal. That thought alone unnerved him to the core. 

The wizard approached the body with a practiced caution. Assessing for any signs of movement from the girl. When he found none, he grabbed her limp wrist and apparated her to the Ministry.

 

* * *

 

Meanwhile, several wizards had gathered into the office of Cornelius Fudge for an abrupt meeting. All of them there to decide the fate of the young girl. They had been sitting at a standstill for several moments now. No one sure of how to proceed and it made the entire room stiff with the unreleased tension.

“Dumbledore," Cornelius said in a gruff voice, running a hand through his balding hair in frustration. "This little girl took out the entire block within a quarter-mile radius. It’s going to take weeks, maybe even months to repair the damage she’s caused." 

"I am aware of that fact, Cornelius," Dumbledore said calmly while looking to the aforementioned man.

"Why on earth are you so calm about this!? She murdered dozens of people and injured hundreds. You know that many are going to wonder who or what caused it." Dumbledore didn't speak and instead deemed a slight nod in reply. "Now, over half of the Ministry’s wizards have to go to all the families as well as the authorities and come up with a plausible reason for what happened. Or the alternative would be to erase their memory of the incident entirely. Neither of which is an easy task. Either decision will result in mounds of paperwork for Ministry!"

"Not to mention she broke several rules and she's an underaged witch!" Lucius Malfoy said in absolute distaste. "We don't tolerate that type of rule-breaking behavior here. Not now—not ever. She deserves to be in Azkaban or executed."

"But she's only a child! It was an accident!" Minerva McGonagall finally spoke up. Completely baffled by his cruel disregard for the girl.

"She is a (L/N)! You know what they did all those years ago and yet, you still defend her!?" Lucius said while sending an accusatory finger in Minerva's direction.

"She should not be held responsible for the sins of her parents!" Minerva shot back in annoyance. 

"Maybe so, but she is proving to be just as dangerous, if not more than they ever were." 

"Enough!" Cornelius interrupted both of them and then sighed deeply. "Dumbledore, I know you've been planning something. Would you mind presenting your solution with the rest of us before we tear each other's heads off?"

"We can take her," Dumbledore answered simply and the room went into utter pandemonium.

"Have you gone mad!?" Albert Runcorn said in outburst.

"And risk something like this happening again!?" Rufus Scrimgeour added with equal fervor.

Dumbledore held up a hand to silence them and they all reluctantly quieted down. "We can show her how to hone her powers—to use them in a more beneficial way. We will, of course, take all the necessary precautions to keep her from hurting anyone else. At least this way, wouldn't have to be inhumane by sentencing a child to death." At that, Dumbledore glanced at Lucius and the pale-haired man glared in return at the wizard. 

"Hmm," Cornelius rubbed his chin in thought. Going over all the alternative options and finding none. "I suppose you have a point."

"What!?" Lucius snarled, his brows furrowing in anger. "This won't solve anything. You're just prolonging the inevitable."

"Perhaps," Cornelius said in reply while absently rubbing the side of his head, trying to assuage an oncoming headache. "But, there is also the possibility that nothing will go wrong. I couldn't live with myself if we sent an innocent child to her death."

"She is anything but innocent—"

"Enough, Malfoy! I have made my decision. We will vote.” Cornelius didn’t stagger at the death-glare Lucius shot at him. “Although, you might still get your wish if enough people vote against Dumbledore's proposition. Now, all those in favor—"

Dumbledore, Minerva, and Kingsley all raised their hands in turn. "All those against, please raise your hand." Lucius' hand shot up almost immediately, followed by Rufus and then Albert. That left the deciding vote in Cornelius' hands and he hoped he wouldn’t regret this decision. "I vote for."

"This is completely outrageous!" Lucius spoke vehemently. "I can't have her attend the same school as my son!"

"Not to worry, Lucius. I have an idea." Cornelius then turned to Dumbledore. "I want you to perform the memory erasing charm on the girl. She must not remember anything about the events that have occurred these past several hours. In addition, I want you to place a binding spell on her magic to prevent anything like this from happening again. Those are my conditions for her to attend Hogwarts."

"As you wish." Dumbledore nodded in reply.

"Good. This meeting is now adjourned."

 

* * *

 

"Dumbledore," Minerva said while looking to the wizard in question. "Are you sure we should do this?"

"Minerva, this girl has been through hell," Dumbledore said frowning and glanced down at the girl that sat strapped to the chair; looking at the many scars that littered her body. "She's been abused for years. It would be a mercy to erase that part of her past as well as what she did." 

"I agree, Dumbledore. But we must take into account the gaps in her memory that choice would create. Not to mention it could take hours to do.

"I'm well aware. The less she remembers—the better, I think." Dumbledore looked at her questioned gaze and added in an attempt to persuade her. "Would her parents have wanted this?"

"No—no, they would not." Minerva took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to assuage the sorrow that suddenly settled in her heart. 

"It's for the best, Minerva."

"I know, but it doesn't make it any easier to see her daughter like this."

Dumbledore drew his lips in a thin line, silently agreeing with her. He waited a moment before looking up to Minerva. With her nod of consent, he lifted his wand and started the grueling process of eradicating the little girl's memories for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think of it so far~


	2. Broken By Grief

* * *

**_ Draco _ **

* * *

_Oh, fearless child, broken boy; tell me what it's like to burn for the mistakes of others._

* * *

 

Draco learned early on that no matter how hard you try, sometimes you can't escape the shadows of grief. They tear and consume, leaving ruin in their wake that time cannot mend. He realized that grief never truly disappears in time. No matter what people say—time does not heal all wounds. It was evident his parents were never the same after that cold December night all those years ago.

Draco's father and mother never even talked about the night _she_ died. Yet, he was reminded every day of what they had lost. And whenever Draco tried to ask, the question was always avoided. He would never forget the way their faces fell, the way their shoulders seemed to hold the heaviest burden with a few simple words. After a while, he just stopped asking.

He vaguely remembered that night as a child. The few hours of time that felt like it stretched into eternity as they waited in anticipation. His mother's bellows of pain that seemed to only grow louder with every passing second. Nurses flying in and out of the room in a near frenzy. His father pacing back and forth in the drawing room while Draco watched him in worry. The dark look when they told Lucius the news as Narcissa wept behind them, cradling the ashen form to her chest.

They were going to name her Asteria, but she never lived long enough to grow into that name. No—Asteria Malfoy died a stillborn and her death continued to haunt them for many years after. It was a night that was buried and forgotten along with her but survived due to a deep longing of possibilities by those she left behind.

Grief is messy. It's not pretty. It's unpredictable; harsh. It brings out the worst in people. Grief has a way of weaving into the hearts of men, often blinding them from the reality of their actions. In the wake of a tragedy, people retreat inside the darkest recesses of their mind to cope with their pain. 

They learned how to carry the weight of loss—sure. But something inside them changed.

For Lucius, he knew he had an obligation to be strong and provide for his family. He also knew that Malfoy's were notoriously targeted because of their reputation. That any signs of weakness would be preyed upon mercilessly by those who'd wish to see him executed for his crimes in the First Wizarding War. So, he threw himself into a job at the Ministry of Magic; obtaining copious amounts of wealth, power, and prestige in addition to what he had already inherited from his parents. 

He didn't work because he needed the money. Lucius never found himself needing more money out of necessity. No—it was more of finding something to numb the pain of his loss. The idea that he could create some semblance of control over his life through more money and influence seemed to ease the fear of losing another member of his family. It was the driving energy that forced him out of bed each morning. In the end, though—the long hours he spent at the office only served to isolate him further away from his family; a bond that has never fully repaired even to this day.

While Lucius focused more on outward ways to protect himself from the world, Narcissa retreated into herself. She grew more and more withdrawn with every passing day; an empty shell of the mother Draco once knew. It was almost as if Asteria took her very will to live along with her that night. A silent and bitter chill until it threatened to consume his mother's very life. It was only when her health had deteriorated considerably to the point of death that she decided to no longer live in the past and instead live for the future. For her family. For Draco.

Even with the loss of a daughter, she realized that grief would only serve to cause further sorrow for both herself and her family. After all, she could not bear the thought of losing another child because of neglect on her part and tried her best to salvage her relationship with Draco. And even though his mother dealt with her grief in one way or another eventually, Draco was left to cope with the loss of both his parents as well as his sister for a _long_ time.

At the time, Draco was too young to understand the concept of death. He tried to figure out why his little sister wasn't there. Why his parents seemed to ignore him no matter what he did to get their attention but came up with nothing. Ultimately, Draco blamed himself. After all, he thought she left because of what he said.

He said that he never wanted a sister.

It was a moment of a childish tantrum when he had said those words, but the guilt of them still weighed heavily on his mind. The sudden isolation from his parents that followed Asteria's death prompted sleepless nights spent worrying that he had done something wrong. After all, what if he was the reason she wasn't here? What if his words came true? With no answers, he thought his parents hated him. 

It didn't help that Lucius became incredibly strict with Draco after that. 

_"Stop crying, Draco. A Malfoy wouldn't conduct himself in such a manner." Lucius sighs, running a hand over his pallid face. "You'll continue to be a disappointment to the Malfoy name if you continue this childish behavior."_

The five-year-old Draco struggled to keep his tears under control, wiping his eyes furiously as he tried to calm his hiccupping breaths. This was, after all, his fault. Draco knew he deserved it, but that realization didn't make it sting any less. He made sure to listen to every word his father said after that because he couldn't stand the way his father looked at him that day.

_"Draco, you're a Pureblood. We do not associate with filth like them. I want you to cut off all contact with him."_

After that, a seven-year-old Draco cut off all ties with his Muggleborn friend because his father told him to. He didn't question why the status of his blood determined who he could mingle with, but he didn't understand it until several years later—or at least, his father forced him to understand the importance of it. 

_"You need to be the best. You're not worth anything to me otherwise. Now, do it again."_

Draco—now at ten, lifted his wand and spoke the Leg-Locker Curse that bound the house-elf's legs together; effectively keeping it from running away. He didn't want to, but he also didn't want to face his father's wrath if he disobeyed. When Lucius hit the creature for spilling a tray onto the floor, Draco couldn't help but turn away at his cruelty; sickened that he had a part in his father's abuse toward the elf. After that, he tried his best to watch his father's moods and avoided him whenever he seemed more agitated than usual.

Ever since Asteria died, Draco tried his best to become the perfect son his father always wanted him to be—to try and make up for what his parents had lost. Draco thought if he succeeded that his father would finally show him the approval and love he so desperately wanted from him. But it was never enough for Lucius. He was too blinded by grief, a father still trapped in the past of something he had no power to control. Pushing his values and ideals onto his son without any thought of the consequences it would bring about to Draco. 

Now, nearly nine years later, Draco held onto his father's words like gospel. He had no idea that he had manipulated him. That what he thought was merely his father's way of showing love was sadistic and cruel for a child to go through. Lucius traumatized him to the point where he thought his feelings was a sign of weakness instead of years of abuse.

He broke him as a boy and it wasn't until years later that Draco realized just how much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, these first two chapters are my way of introducing both an internal and external conflict for you and Draco. 
> 
> An idea I had for Lucius being strict with Draco as a kid was because he lost a child. It's not an easy thing to go through and I feel like he would turn his grief into a desire to control every aspect of his life to deal with it. People deal with grief differently and it's not always positive. Lucius is sort of the driving force that pushes Draco to act the way he does. After all, most kids try their best to make their parents happy. I hope it makes sense..


	3. Year One: Outcast

* * *

_** You ** _

* * *

 

To live without a sense of oneself is debilitating. Most people have something to fall back to. Family. Friends. Perhaps even a lover to help stabilize them. To help assuage the oncoming uncertainty of one's self-worth. To comfort you when everything all goes wrong. But (Y/N) didn't have any of that. As far as she knew, she didn't have anyone. At least, she had no recollection of it.

All she remembers is darkness. A suffocating fog in the recesses of her memory that blocked out any and all perception of what might have been in her past. She didn't know where she came from. Who her parents were. The things she should remember doing as a young girl. And more importantly—why she was here. 

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

Well—she couldn't say that. After all, her earliest memory was of Dumbledore briefly explaining that she had been in a terrible accident. Apparently, her parents had passed away in a car crash while she had suffered an injury to the brain that caused amnesia. Even in the wake of the tragedy, Dumbledore promised that they would take care of her from that day onward and at a school for the magically gifted—an idea that had the witch nearly scoffing at the idea when she first heard it.

She knew she should have felt  _something_  after hearing the news. Her parents were gone, but she couldn't find it in herself to mourn them. It's not that she was heartless. In fact, she felt obligated to mourn for them. It felt _wrong_ not to. She wanted to remember them in passing. They were her parents after all. But what she felt was more a sense of what she should have felt and not what she actually was experiencing. How can you grieve for someone you don't even remember? 

But even with the news of her parent's death, she found herself more upset at the fact that he didn't give her any answers when she asked what happened. Much to her dismay, Dumbledore simply stated that she should be careful about wishing for something you might not want, but wished that in time he hoped her memories would return. Although, that lie was merely for her benefit. He did everything in his power to make sure that _wouldn't_ happen.

It puzzled her that over decade's worth of memories should have been there as clear as day, but were practically nonexistent. Every time she tried to remember them, she was met with that all-too-familiar haze in her mind. Without them, she felt—cheated _._  Like she had no idea what it meant to exist.

Memories—your past—they make up who you are. They influence the choices you make. Without them, you're just empty. And you also find that without them, you're entirely alone. It was strange living in a school where people had a history. They had something she didn't. They had a _before_.

As much as she tried to believe that she too had something akin to them once upon a time, the fog in her mind only served to mock her for what she lacked. She was alone. Both mentally and physically alone. And it was difficult living with that thought.

It also didn't help that she was sorted separately weeks after everyone else and into Slytherin no less.

It didn't take long for people to speculate about the events surrounding the mysterious girl. They were after all curious of the girl who magically appeared one day. It was natural to wonder where she had come from—why she was sorted apart from the rest of them, but she wouldn't give them any answers. It wasn't like she knew more than them when it came to her past at this point.

It's just—she didn't want people to know she had some form of amnesia. In her mind, it made her vulnerable. And the last thing she wanted in a room full of cold and calculating Slytherins was to give them some form of control over her. So, she kept it a secret.

With no answers, rumors began to circulate around the school about her. There were those who thought she had come from some powerful family and had come to the school to hone her magic. Some believed that she was nothing special—a Mudblood trying to pretend she was something when she really wasn't and accused her of dirtying the pure lineage of Slytherin. Others simply wrote her off as crazy.

After a while, it came to no surprise that many people didn't want to befriend her. Few trusted her and she supposed it was to be expected. People are naturally drawn toward safety and self-preservation. With the way rumors depicted her, she was anything but that. 

Still, few did try. And when they did, she pushed them away. But it wasn't intentional on her part. There was this feeling inside her that wanted. No— _needed—_ to avoid anyone she came in contact with. She couldn't explain how, but she just _knew_  it wasn't good to get close to anyone. So, she continued to push people away. 

To her, it was natural to become defensive. It was easier to believe the worst in people even if their intentions seemed genuine at first. She would find herself withdrawing from people in an attempt to preserve them from something she couldn't explain; couldn't see or even hope to understand. It was just a losing battle on her part to try and struggle against it.

In the end, she stopped fighting it and settled with the idea that perhaps it was better this way. It at least made it easier to deal with the sneers that came her way whenever she walked by in the halls. That's what she tried to convince herself of anyway.

It still hurt, though.

Even amongst all of her peers in potions class that day, she felt completely and utterly alone. 

 

* * *

 

”Ms. (L/N),” Snape said in his usual, bored tone to the girl in question—shaking her out of her thoughts. “Do you have a valid excuse for ignoring me during my lecture?”

She paused, going over several excuses in a matter of seconds, but decided that honesty would most likely be the best course of action here. She swallowed harshly before averting her eyes to the ground to avoid his stare. But it did little to settle the sensation of his eyes burning holes in her skull.  

"No, sir."

"I was expecting an excuse mildly more entertaining than _that_." He spoke in a candid tone before turning back to the chalkboard. “Five points from Slytherin for your lack of attentiveness during an important lecture. Don't let me find you wandering off again.” 

“As I was saying—” Snape paused to glare toward the girl to make sure she was listening and she fought back an urge to say something. “You must add the porcupine quills after the cauldron is off the heat. Failure to do so will result in...” Snape was well underway in his lesson once more when his voice was drowned out by the incessant whispers of the boy behind her. 

”Drifting off in your classes again, (L/N)?” Draco snickered and both his goons Crabbe and Goyle joined in turn. “What's that make it—sixth time this month? If I didn’t know you any better, I’d say there's nothing up there in that brain of yours, or maybe it's because you're raving mad...I guess the rumors are true—" He made a swirling gesture near his head with his finger as he sneered. 

She didn't know what provoked him to test his luck with Snape by trying to get a reaction out of her, but he must have seen her jaw tense at his comment because his smirk only grew. Holding back any further reactions, she just gave him a blank stare and said nothing in return. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

Before either of them could say anything, Snape had finished his lecture and had begun pairing the students up in groups. The pair would then have to compete against each other by making a simple potion to cure boils. Much to her dismay, Draco got paired with her and he could only grin at the opportunity to elicit a reaction out of her that he knew was boiling underneath her calm demeanor.

"Try not to get in my way, (L/N)." Draco hissed as he shoved past her to walk to the table they'd be sharing.

"I could say the same to you, Malfoy." She said underneath her breath and was grateful when Draco didn't hear it.

They worked in silence, both focused on the task at hand and neither wanting to lose. Draco noticed that she seemed to have a natural aptitude for potions and that surprised him. And despite all of Draco's boasting earlier, she found that he actually had some skill to back up that claim. (Although, both would die before admitting that to each other.) Whereas some—like Neville—were lacking in any and all skill for the subject.

When his cauldron had melted and the potion had started to seep upon the ground, nearly all the students groaned at what had started to become a common occurrence with Neville. Snape could only snarl while he flicked his wand to rid the potion off Neville's clothes and the classroom and then ordering Neville's partner to take him to the hospital wing before the boils got worse.

Apparently, that was only the start.

"You—Potter—why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor." It was all Ron could do to pull Harry back before he could say anything he would regret.

(Y/N) thought the entirety of it all was unjust, but could only sit and watch as Harry hung his head low and walked back to the table to finish the potion, which she proceeded to do the same.

Much to her annoyance, Draco had started to boast about Snape's praise for his achievements earlier in class and frustration began to settle in the pit of her stomach. She was absolutely over everything. Draco's attitude was the  _final_ straw.

"Oh, congratulations Malfoy." She sneered. "You proved to us once again just how far flattery and money can get you. It's _so_ admirable how you can bribe people to make up for your lack of skills."

Malfoy's face twisted in contempt before he stormed over and jabbed a finger in her face. " _I_  did not bribe _anyone_." He said through gritted teeth. "You're just jealous that I show an ounce of talent for something you clearly don't understand."

She snorted. "Please, you're a functional moron at best. No amount of money can fix that." 

She had never seen anyone turn so red. The veins that spread across his forehead pulsated with anger and she secretly hoped they would burst. It would be a service to all humanity if he died right there on the spot. Sadly, he did not. Draco decided to knock over her bowl of crushed fangs onto the floor instead. 

The witch was fed up with him at this point. What she wouldn’t give to punch him in the face at this point. 

Gritting her teeth, she bent down to pick up the contents that he spilled—fully prepared to give him a piece of her mind when someone lifted her up by her hair and shoved her head inside the cauldron. The pain was _excruciating_. It felt like someone was scrapping her face against the broken glass and the proceeded to pour molten lava as a finishing touch. She thrashed around, trying to claw at the figure behind her for several moments before the force that held her down finally let go.

Her face started to itch uncontrollably as boils started to form on the exposed skin like wildfire; biting down a whimper as her face felt like tiny pinpricks that had been previously dipped in acid. To her right, she could hear stifled laughter and knew that only one person could have done that—Malfoy. She was about to pummel him when Snape's voice came up behind her.

"Another one..." Snape sighed, rubbing his forehead in an attempt to assuage the oncoming headache. "Are any students capable of producing a simple potion nowadays without an incident?" He cleaned up the mess she had caused with a wave of his wand and looked at her, disappointment written on his scowling face. 

"Ms. (L/N), you were showing great promise for once and yet—here you are—dumbly falling into a cauldron." The witch picked up on a faint chuckle coming from Malfoy, which only served to further agitate the pain that had started to throb painfully. "But alas, you are just as incapable as the rest."

"Professor Snape, sir," She spoke up, trying to not let the discomfort show in her voice. "It wasn't my fault. Malfoy—"

"Enough!" Snape yelled. "I don't want to hear any more from you else I will put you in detention for your insolent behavior. I've had just about enough of you for one day. _Now_ , go get yourself to the hospital wing so you can get treated. Class dismissed!"

She begrudgingly picked up her books and stumbled out of the classroom to make her way to the hospital wing. She cursed inwardly when it proved to be harder than she had anticipated. Both eyes were nearly closed shut and the blisters on her hands in combination with her books made it difficult to support herself. The whole time she ascended the stairs all she could think about was one thing:

That Draco was going to get what’s coming to him.


	4. Forbidden Edict

* * *

**_ Draco _ **

* * *

 

Draco noticed her the moment she walked in. Quiet and reserved as always, she sat down without even glancing at anyone else in the room. While everyone else was too preoccupied to notice, he took note of the way she seemed to draw into herself the longer she sat there. 

He had heard all of the rumors—yes. The ones about her being a lunatic. That she was the alleged daughter of Death Eaters. He, in fact, had a hand in starting the one about her being a Mudblood when prompted by Pansy, saying something along the lines of— _she's nothing special and that people should stop making such a big fuss about her._

But the truth of the matter was—she puzzled him as well. He would never admit to that, though.

Seeing her like that often prompted Draco to seek her out as a thirsty man would water in a desert. It was irrational at times. He knew that. But this girl was a riddle that he wanted to solve. After all, things didn't add up around her.

When students started avoiding the girl because of rumors, that was one thing. He expected as much to come from them. But when teachers started to whisper amongst themselves about how both Dumbledore and Minerva were very tight-lipped about the girl, he knew there was much more to her that he initially thought.

What business did the headmaster of Hogwarts and the head of the Gryffindor house have to do with this young girl? And what secret were they trying so desperately to hide?

Yes—something definitely wasn't right when it came to her. And Draco was going to find out what it was.

When Snape reprimanded her during class, Draco could tell she was fighting an urge to defend herself—most students did when it came to Snape. But when she just simply nodded in silence, he knew there was definitely more to her than she showed the rest of the world. She may exhibit a face of indifference, but Draco knew that there was something she was desperately trying to hide. And if there was anything that intrigued Draco the most, it was the idea of secrets.

That's what prompted him to try and provoke a reaction out of her. When she finally slipped and let go of that level-headed attitude she was known for, he knew he had struck a nerve. That's also why he had pushed her head down into the cauldron. Well— _that_ and the fact that she did also damage his pride a little _._

That was all he could think about as he exited Snape’s classroom after she clumsily stumbled out of it. He watched her with contempt while she attempted to poorly ascend the stairs out of the dungeon and didn’t lift a single finger to help. Seeing her pathetic form, brought him great pride knowing that he had been the cause of it.

His reason for their animosity toward each other was not without a legitimate cause. After all, their first conversation was anything but civil on her part. Well...That’s not entirely true. Draco wouldn’t admit it, but he might have had a hand in it as well. 

 

* * *

 

“...Surely you can do better than that, (L/N).” Draco said when he confronted her after seeing her talk to the ever-so-famous Scarhead. “I mean, seriously—Potter? Out of all the people you decided to talk to, you choose him?”

”What’s it to you, Malfoy?” She scoffed while crossing her arms.  “I wasn’t aware that I had to pass everything by you first. In fact, you and I have never even spoken to each other in the first place, so it shouldn't even matter!”

“If it involves Potter, maybe you should start. After all, you are a Slytherin and we don’t associate with Gryffindors.” 

”Oh, I’m sorry—But as far as I’m aware, you don’t get to decide that.” She glared at him harshly before deciding to take a jab at him. “Your reputation here may precede you because of your parents and their grand accumulation of wealth. You may also have everyone here ready to serve you at your every beck and call. But the truth is—you’re nothing but a spoiled prat with a big head that’s too full of your ego.”

”Why, you little—“ Draco snarled nastily. “You take that back!” 

“Try me.” She challenged. 

Draco growled in frustration before deciding to take a swing at her. After all, two could play at that game. ”You know, it’s beyond me why you were even sorted into Slytherin in the first place. You couldn't be further from being one if you tried. You _don't_ belong here. Tell me, why don't you go home to your parents and take your filth with you, Mudblood?" 

He expected her to say something back, but she remained incredibly still and silent. There was a blazing fire in her eyes and it made Draco's throat go slightly dry at the sight. He knew at that moment that he’d gone too far. After all, he didn’t know her that well and there was no telling what she’s capable of. Then, without warning, she kicked him in the groin and he crumpled to the ground in a pathetic heap.

"Don't you ever insult me again." She said through gritted teeth and Draco had a hard time registering what she was saying through the pain. "You think you're better than everyone else just because your blood is purer than others—that you _somehow_ belong here more than the rest of us because of that!? You may have been born into some form of royalty, but you definitely don't deserve it. People like you disgust me." And with that, she stormed off; leaving behind a fuming pale-haired boy in her wake.

 

* * *

 

Draco grimaced at the memory; the sting of their first encounter still fresh in his mind. It was the driving force that compelled him to sabotage her every chance he could.

 _‘Nobody insults a Malfoy and gets away with it.’_ Draco thought back to the mantra that his father had practically engraved into his mind. _‘Always make sure that fact is known by those who wrong you. Make them regret ever opposing you.’_

After all, she _did_ deserve it and he was just following his father’s instructions. Even though he was practically a saint to his father’s teachings, there was one thing he failed to do every single time. And it always had to do with her.

When Draco’s father came home that night over a month ago, he knew almost immediately that something was off. He could still remember the fear he felt when the sudden crackle of his father’s apparition made the hair on Draco’s arm sticking straight up. 

He knew by the way his father had left in such haste earlier that day that some urgent business had come up. And while he often dealt with those type of situations with accustomed ease, he was hardly ever in a good mood when he came back. But that time, the air around him was completely different than normal.

For the most part, Draco could handle the demands of his father. While Lucius Malfoy was one of the most unpredictable and callous in the family—Well, perhaps not as much as his aunt, Bellatrix—he had structure. A routine. He was predictable in a way that he would often deal with situations in the same calculated manner. 

It was rather uncanny at the amount of dedication his father took, but no one in the family valued routine and order above all else as much as him. That was the reason why Draco could, for the most part, predict what his father expected from him and that made dealing with him much easier. Although, Draco somehow knew that that night was going to be completely different and that thought alone set him on edge.

“Draco!” His father’s voice pierced the silence of the room as he beckoned him to come forward and Draco’s spine straightened involuntarily at the sound. He took in a shaky breath and walked over to the pale man that had apparated into the drawing room only moments before.

“You called, father?” He said calmly, trying to keep the apprehension out of his tone. If there was anything he knew about his father. It was that he did not tolerate weakness. If he even slipped up slightly, there's no telling how his father would react and it was never a good thing for anyone to be on the receiving end of his disappointment. 

“Sit down, son.” He commanded with a gesture of his hand. “I want to talk to you.” His tone was hard and Draco sat down warily. Apprehension started to build in his gut at the silence and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 

“You know I want only what’s best for you right?” Draco nodded slowly, unsure of what direction the conversation was headed. “Then, listen to me when I say that what I’m about to say is extremely important for you to take heed. Understand?” 

With each passing word, Draco grew more and more confused as to what his father’s intention was, but he nodded. “This is not going to make any sense to you at the moment, but do not—not for even one second—have any dealings with a girl named (Y/N) (L/N).” Lucius paused to run a bony hand through his hair and Draco’s brow furrowed. “I have had the great displeasure of knowing her parents and I will not have my son associating with the filth that is their entire bloodline. Unfortunately, due to some rather distasteful circumstances, she is going to be attending your school.”

“I will, father,” Draco answered almost immediately. ”But, if I may ask—why her? What makes her so different from everyone else that’s attending?”

“She just is,” Lucius said in a clipped tone, the muscles in his jaw working with every syllable he uttered. "You are not to question my judgment. I do not want you speaking to her at all. I forbid you. Do I make myself clear?”

Draco asked the first question that came to mind. To him, it was the only plausible reason why his father would harbor such distaste for the girl. “Is she a Mudblood?”

His father paused for the shortest of seconds before answering. “Yes, she is.” 

Even though Draco knew that to be far from the truth, he knew better than to question him further. While Draco knew that his father detested Mudbloods with a fiery passion, he had never seen him get this worked up over one before. No, it was something else entirely. But, he would obey his father; even if his reasons to avoid her were dishonest.

“Have I made myself clear?” Lucius repeated the question and Draco nodded in affirmation.

In his defense, he had really tried to keep his word. In the beginning, he fully intended to avoid her at all costs and stood firm in that decision for a while.

You could disregard the fact that he didn’t even remember her being sorted at all and that fact alone piqued his interest. After all, he never knew of anybody that got sorted separately from everyone else. You could also excuse the fact that when he found out that she got sorted into his house it made it nearly impossible to avoid her. He also tried to ignore the teachers that started to whisper amongst themselves about the strange circumstances surrounding her. The rumors that circulated around the girl seemed baseless—most rumors are. But when the teachers all started to say the same things, he began to wonder. 

In the end, it wasn’t the rumors or the fact that she was somewhat of an enigma that broke his resolve. No, his resolve was quickly decimated when she talked to Potter for the first time and actually befriended him. Oh, his hatred for Potter far exceeded his resolution to keep his word to his father. And it was the visceral reaction to how she treated him that sparked that irritation and why he continued to antagonize her.

It’s not like Draco took great pleasure in disobeying his father. Frankly, it was quite the opposite. However, in his mind, anyone that had an association with Potter and his small group of friends deserved to be treated like the scum they are. And he most certainly wanted to let her know that.

It was strange. Most of the time Draco never blatantly disregarded his father, but the little witch intrigued him, to say the least, and he hadn’t the slightest idea why. Perhaps it was the way she held herself whenever he teased her. Or maybe it was the fact that it seemed like there was more to her than meets the eye. Whatever the reason was, he had no intention of avoiding her now.

He just hoped that this choice of his wouldn’t end up badly.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucius is a bit evil, hm?
> 
> He's just doing what he thinks is best, so can't be too harsh on the guy now, can we? On the other hand, Draco is also doing what he thinks is best. Like father like son, I guess... XD


	5. Jinx

* * *

_** You ** _

* * *

 

Apparently, a normal day was too much to ask for.

Not only had she been brutally embarrassed in potions earlier this week, but students from her house also deemed it necessary to join Malfoy in on the harassment—and they were merciless. It seemed like everyone in her house suddenly had something against her. Although, the little witch knew without a doubt that it was all due to Draco’s big mouth. 

First the rumors and now this? She began to wonder if he had anything better to do. Why had Draco chosen her out of the myriad of students to pick on? But then again, Malfoy picked on Harry and he seemed to be one of the nicest people at this school.

It hurt—yes. (Y/N) wouldn’t deny it. After all, it’s not easy to be called a raving lunatic or a filthy Mudblood nearly every second of the day. She was constantly knocked over and laughed at relentlessly, even having crumpled up notes thrown at her head containing crude remarks. That—was the reason why she grew increasingly frustrated day by day and today was no exception.

“Watch out!—” The pug-faced girl—Pansy—said as she brushed past (Y/N)’s crumpled form as she tried to pick up the books that had been knocked out of her arms. “You’re blocking the way for everyone else to walk past, Mudblood.” 

She rolled her eyes. “There’s plenty of room on the other side of the hall, or are you simply too stupid to notice?” 

Pansy scoffed in disbelief. “You’re one to talk after falling clumsily into a cauldron—not to mention you'd stoop so low as to blame poor Draco for it."

Before this point, (Y/N) would have thought to defend herself. She would have liked to try and discredit a lot of the rumors against her—to tell everyone what really happened. But now—she knew better. Anything she said was utterly disregarded and then twisted into a lie. So, she kept her mouth shut. 

Looking at Pansy, her nose crinkled at the glazed look she got whenever she mentioned Draco. She never got what people saw in Draco. Girls practically threw themselves at his feet, proclaiming their undying love and showering him with affection—despite how annoyed he got when they did so. Not to mention that nearly all the guys in Slytherin wanted to be his friend but whether it was because of genuine interest for the boy or simply lust for what he had, she didn't know. But it baffled her when they could somehow manage to ignore his rotten personality in its entirety.

He was spoiled beyond anyone she had ever seen and so full of himself she was surprised his head hadn’t exploded by now. It bothered her how he could get away with being rude and they would still worship the ground he walked on. And despite this, he showed no indication of feeling remorse for mistreating them. In short, he was an absolute prat.

“Let’s go, Pansy.” Her friend suggested after (Y/N) didn’t reply after awhile. “We shouldn’t waste our precious time on a Mudblood like her.” Pansy huffed, but agreed and walked away, using her perfectly manicured hand to flip her hair as she left.

The little girl sighed deeply. She acted tough—yes, but deep down she hated being called those things. It was a terrible label that marked her as an outcast. Amongst all the Purebloods in her house, she didn’t belong. She never would. It hurt to know that no matter how hard she tried to be accepted that she would fall short every single time and there was nothing she could do to change that.

She tried not to think about it, but it bothered her. The fact that everyone seemed to have someone to count on as a friend while she was all alone. It pained her to see other students hanging out with each other and having fun. It hurt to be the very last one picked whenever they had group projects. It hurt that no one wanted to be around her.

(Y/N) shook her head and exhaled. There was no use worrying about something you couldn’t change. She couldn’t break, no matter how unfairly she was treated.

She _wouldn’t_  allow them to see her break.

Picking herself off the floor, she gathered her books and got up from off the ground. Trying to hold her head high with as much dignity as she could muster, she made her way to her next class.

 

* * *

 

Classes were thankfully uneventful. After what happened this morning, she would take boring any day of the week and was grateful for the monotony her day. Although, she spoke too soon when a person bumped into her abruptly and knocked her over for the second time that day. 

”Well, well, well...” Draco sneered. “If it isn’t the little Mudblood.” 

_Him again. And he has his goons—Crabbe and Goyle—with him._

"Look, Malfoy—just leave me alone." This was the _last_ thing she wanted right now.

"Not a chance, (L/N)." He then feigned a mock look of concern. "How are you feeling? You know, because you looked absolutely ghastly after what happened in potions the other day." She scoffed in disbelief at his gall. 

"You have eyes—don't you? Or are they about as unnecessary as the amount of hair gel you put into your hair?" Draco eyes widened and his nose flared at that comment. She smirked in triumph knowing that she had struck a nerve.

"I do—but they can't stand to look at the sight of you—filthy Mudblood." Crabbe and Goyle snickered behind him and her temper flared.

"Listen here, you brat—" She charged toward him fully intending to give him a piece of her mind, but Professor McGonagall suddenly walked around the corner. She cleared her throat and looked at them sternly—a silent threat to stop whatever they had been planning to do. 

"Now, what pray tell—is happening here?" Professor McGonagall glared at them with her piercing eyes and they both fidgeted under her intense stare.

"Nothing, ma'am.” Draco said quietly, suddenly interested in his shoes and the little girl looked away in shame.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought.” She crossed her arms and continued to stare at them. “Well, if both of you have nothing else to say—you should be heading off to your last class. Run along now—shoo!” At that, they both quickly shuffled away.

"Just you wait, (L/N)." He leaned into her ear threateningly. “I am not in _any_ way done with you yet." And with that, he stormed off.

She rolled her eyes; irritation seeping through her veins at his constant barrage of threats. Would it be a futile wish to hope that it would all go away? Knowing Malfoy, she knew that it wouldn’t do any good. Although, if he continued, (Y/N) had a feeling she would surely break soon.

And there’s no telling what will happen when she does.

Hopefully, she could just get this day over with soon. Malfoy was going to be there, though. And after his threat, she knew that it was going to be anything but quick. Groaning, she braced herself for what was about to come.

She had  _long_ class ahead of her. 

 

* * *

 

"Alright, students." Professor Flitwick said after climbing a stack of books on this desk. “Today we will be learning about the knockback jinx, or Flipendo—if you will. It is known to be quite a useful spell when dueling. You should also be quite familiar with the material if you studied the homework I gave you the other day. Now, let’s begin!”

“Finally—something remotely interesting is happening in this class.” Draco muttered a couple of rows behind her and she huffed in annoyance. “I thought I’d die of old age before we learned anything useful.”

At this point, she would give anything for one day without hearing his snarky comments for once. 

“You will each take turns practicing Flipendo on this dummy.” Professor Flitwick demonstrated the form and technique for all the students briefly before continuing.“Now, form a line, students.” He instructed them with a wave of his hand. “The first caster can begin whenever they’re ready!” 

Draco had been the first to step—or rather shove his way into the front of the line. He then swaggered over to the front of the dummy, standing several feet away and waiting a moment before raising his wand. His form was arrogant; cocky. All too eager to show off in front of the many eyes that had all gathered to watch him. Much to her dismay, he cast the spell perfectly. The cheers combined with his proud smirk made the witch clench her fists.

Professor Flitwick motioned to her and she stepped in front of the dummy, inhaling deeply before raising her wand. She was determined to do better than Draco this time. She _had_ to. 

“Careful, (L/N)—wouldn’t want to mess up and embarrass yourself in front of all these students. After all, it'd be difficult to follow up after _such_ a performance” He sneered nastily and she glared at him, before an idea popped into her head.

A very, _very_  bad idea.

She could do it. Frankly, she was already in a foul mood since this morning. It would also be extremely satisfying to do. And, most of all, Malfoy deserved it. The thing is, it could also get her into a _lot_ of trouble _._ Was it reckless? Most defintely. She wondered if it would it be even worth the trouble? No—of course, it would. Anything that would wipe that smirk off his face would be worth it.

When could she do it, though? She knew that it would not be wise to do it now. After all, there were too many eyes watching her right now. She wouldn't even get halfway through with it before she was caught. Sighing, she was about to give up on the idea before the perfect opportunity presented itself. 

“PEEVES—COME BACK HERE, YOU FOUL-MANNERED GHOST!” Filch screeched as Peeves flew through the wall and into the classroom. At that moment, everyone turned their attention to the source of the disruption and were completely engrossed in it. (Y/N) thanked Peeves silently and turned her attention back to Draco, who was just as distracted as everyone else.

There wasn’t a better opportunity than this.

This was her chance.

_"If you’re going to get in trouble for hurting someone, might as well hit them hard, right?"_

She raised her wand and pointed it at Draco. He looked at her with a look of confusion before realization dawned on his face. Draco opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off with a wave of her wand. 

“—Flipendo.” 

Finally, after weeks of torture, the witch was able to give Malfoy a taste of his own medicine and it was _exhilarating_. The expression on his face was beyond anything she could have asked for. He flew back; slidding onto the ground for several feel before hitting his head on the wall. He looked dazed for a second, his eyes unfocused and blank before he blinked harshly and rose up in haste. She almost laughed aloud when she saw him waver slightly and almost fall to the ground again.

Draco charged toward her with a vengeance. "How _dare_ you, (L/N)." He spat. "You could have seriously inujured me! What is your problem!?" 

"Merely returning the favor, _Malfoy_."

She didn't say anything else; nothing needed to be said. She had won this round and he knew it. All she wanted to do at this point was relish in her victory. 

“What seems to be the problem?” Apparently, Peeves had disappeared once again and everyone’s attention had solely focused onto them, including Professor Flitwick. 

“She attacked me!” Draco pointed at her accusingly. “She used Flipendo on me while everyone else was distracted—She _nearly_ killed me!” 

“Is this true, Ms. (L/N)?” 

“It wasn’t my intention, sir,” She lied. “I hadn’t meant to hit him. At the last minute, he got in my way and I accidentally hit him with the jinx. I guess I was too eager to try the spell...” She looked away and bowed her head at that last part, feigning a look of apology.

”That’s a lie—She’s lying Professor! This little Mudblood di—“

”That's enough, Malfoy!” Professor Flitwick said sternly. “Ten points from Slytherin because you both falsely accused and insulted Ms, (L/N).” 

“But—“ Draco tried to defend himself.

”I said that’s enough, Malfoy—I don’t want to hear any more from you.” Professor Flitwick said before fixing his cravat. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he realized just how late it was. “I guess that’s all for today—how unfortunate...Very well, we’ll continue this lesson tomorrow then. Class dismissed!”

The witch quickly made her way out of the classroom—not wanting to catch Draco in his anger, which she most certainly knew he was going to exhibit. When she heard rapid footsteps behind her, she knew that Draco was following her and started to prepare herself for what was to come. She may not have gotten in trouble with her teacher, but Malfoy was definitely going to make her regret it.

Luckily—a group of Slytherins surrounded him last minute. All showing concern for the pale-haired boy and they effectively blocked his way out of the classroom. Draco could do nothing but glare at her back as she scampered away in triumph.

She could only guess what Malfoy would do in return. After all, she had practically stuck a giant target onto herself, but decided that she would worry about it when it came. Victory was too sweet to worry about repercussions.

—Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I cruel for doing that? XD 
> 
> Let me just say this chapter went through so many revisions and I’m still not entirely happy with how it turned out. 
> 
> Rate and review?


	6. Unforeseen Inconvenience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Know that I also got rid of the prologue and moved the chapters back, so you have to read the previous chapter for this one to make any sense.

* * *

**_ Draco _ **

* * *

 

Two long weeks.

How is it that Draco's mood could be contingent on a single person? Two weeks and Draco was beginning to grow into a near frenzy. Ever since that incident in Charms, Draco didn't see much of her. He knew that she was avoiding him, but he couldn't believe just how well she managed to pull it off and it was starting to annoy him.

To say that Draco would be sensible given enough time to cool off from the initial backlash was foolish thinking. No—the longer he went without seeing her, the longer he went without repaying her for the ever-so-kind gesture, the more he seemed to grow mad. He could not let things stand the way they were between them.

With her victory—although Draco would never label it as such—he vowed to put her into place and teach her a lesson that she wouldn't soon forget. However long it took him. Although, his patience was soon wearing thin.

It felt like he was trying to recover from a wound that was incapable of healing because he couldn't leave it alone. Inconvenient and a pain to deal with. That's what she was to him; an inconvenience. And until he could deal with her, his pride would never heal. What he would give for the perfect opportunity.

At this point, he would sell his soul to ruin her. 

Until then, Harry deemed a worthy distraction to turn his attention away from the little witch that had captured his attention for so many weeks. 

It didn't take much to rile Harry up. After all, Draco had poked and prodded him for weeks now. It was to be expected. Although, he didn't expect Harry to follow him up on his broom after he snatched Neville's Remembrall—Being that he was such a stickler to the rules. The fact that Harry could get into trouble added to the thrill and only served to encourage Draco even more.

"Give it here," Harry demanded. "or I'll knock you off that broom!"

"Oh, yeah?" Draco said, smirking as he tossed the remembral between his hands.

"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry said as he drifted toward Draco.

_Oh, but I can still do this, Potter._

"Catch it if you can, then!" Draco sneered as he flung the orb into the air and started his descent. To his surprise, Harry flew to the ground with blinding accuracy and caught the Remembrall without missing a beat. That did not please Draco in the slightest, but he supposed what happened next would have to suffice.

"HARRY POTTER!" 

Professor McGonagall had appeared out of nowhere and was completely aghast. “Never—in all my time here at Hogwarts—" She huffed as she tried to compose herself, but her eyes were both furious and Draco caught a hint of awe in her voice as she spoke. “How dare you—might have broken your neck—"

"It wasn’t his fault, Professor—"

"Be quiet, Miss Patil—" 

"But Malfoy—" 

"That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter," Professor McGonagall snapped her head to Harry, her eyes stern as she regarded him. "Follow me now." There was no room for argument in her tone and all Harry could do was follow her with his head hung low. Draco bit back a laugh at the sight.

"He'll finally get what's coming to him." Draco drawled as he puffed out his chest. "I'll be glad when he leaves this place and takes his stench with him."

"You'd do a great service if you left first..." (Y/N) muttered underneath her breath and whatever ounce of victory Draco felt in that moment was short lived. Everything he had tried so desperately to forget came rushing back with those bitter words and he stormed over to her with a vengeance.

"What did you say you filthy Mudblood?" Draco said as he jabbed a finger in her face. The glare she sent him made shivers go down his spine and he fought back hard to keep himself from shifting under her gaze.

"You heard what I said. And could you come up with something more original than Mudblood or is that the best you can do? Because it's getting old real fast. You have your  _entire_ life to be a jerk. Why not take the day off?" She was brave—Draco could admit that. That—or foolishly in over her head. She had a way of holding herself with such certainty—such disregard for consequences that Draco wondered if he would ever win against this girl. 

He opened his mouth to throw a snarky reply her way, but Madam Hooch had come back from escorting Neville to the hospital wing and dismissed them. Draco snarled instead as she brushed past him and walked away with her head held high. 

Draco's mood was soured for the rest of the day. At dinner, he witnessed what he called the proverbial _icing to the cake_ when he saw that was Harry _not_ expelled. And as if to add insult to injury, Draco learned that Harry was now also a seeker on Gryffindor.

Harry _wasn't_ leaving. No—favoritism won once again and Draco bit back a curse. At this point, Draco just wanted to smash his head into the nearest wall and give himself amnesia. That seemed to be a pleasant alternative.

He just _might_ have to sell his soul to win against them both at this rate.

Seeing Harry celebrate with his friends made something stir inside Draco. Before he knew what was happening, he found himself in front of his table with fist clenched at his sides—Crabbe and Goyle following clumsily behind. Draco didn't know what he would say when he got there, but he was a master at improvisation. He'd make due.

Having a last meal, Potter?" Draco smirked before crossing his arms. "When are you getting on the train back to the Muggles?" Even though he knew it wasn't happening, he still felt the need to take the jab at Harry.

"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," Harry said calmly, looking at Malfoy's goons. They puffed out their chests and cracked their knuckles as if to add emphasis on their strength. Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He was fully capable of defending himself without them, or so he thought.

It was then, met with their eyes that practically exuded a sickening triumph that he decided to take a risk that would most likely end badly with his luck as of late, but he didn't care. 

"I'd take you on anytime on my own," Draco countered. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only—no contact. What's the matter?" He said when he noticed to confused look from Harry and crossed his arms with a sneer. "Never hear of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

"Of course he has," Added Ron in Harry's defense, which Draco knew was only a feeble attempt of a lie. "I'm his second—who's yours?"

Draco's gaze flickered over to his goons, sizing them up before speaking. "Crabbe," He said as he nodded over to the larger figure. "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked." With that, he left. Scheming the entire way back to the dorm.

Little did he know, the little (H/C)-haired witch had overheard everything.

It was about a quarter till midnight when Draco started to make his way to the trophy room. It was eerily quiet at this time of the hour and Draco could swear that his silent footsteps seemed to echo off the walls. He had confidence in his furtive ability to sneak around, but that didn't mean it didn't unnerve him to no end.

It also didn't help that he felt like _someone_ was watching him. Twice he peered over his shoulder to ease the growing trepidation that started to settle in his gut, but each time he just shook his head when he was met with empty air. 

Draco supposed that the caution did not go unwarranted when he heard shuffling footsteps in the distance and quickly hid in the shadows. He held his breath when Mr. Filch lazily passed by his hiding spot, silently grateful that Mrs. Norris did not accompany him this time around. When he stopped further down the hall, Draco thought he had actually been found out but when Mr. Filch started running towards the source of his cat's meow, he calmed considerably.

When Draco finally arrived at the trophy room, he just stood there for a couple of moments; listening for something. Not only was he met with the voices of both Harry and Ron, but that of Hermione and the ever-so-timid toad boy, Neville. It felt like Christmas morning to Draco and he couldn't help the grin that stretched across his entire face. 

"Colloportus," Draco muttered—effectively locking the door and then proceeded to knock over the suit of armor next to the door. Knowing that he had undoubtedly gained the attention of every teacher in the near vicinity, he quickly darted away back to the safety of the dorms. Draco was about to ascend into the dark staircase when a voice made him stop dead in his tracks.

"What was that back there, Malfoy!?" (Y/N) hissed and Draco whirled around in surprise. "You have some nerve to set up that meeting only to chicken out of it like a coward." 

"(L/N)?" Draco said dumbly, not believing the sight that stood before him. He felt like a child who had just been caught stealing and it was all he could do not to shrink at her accusation. "What are you doing spying on me? Got nothing better to do, huh?" He deflected in an attempt to salvage his pride.

" _I_  have nothing better to do!?" she whispered out harshly, utter disbelief written all over her face. "You're the one who—"

"And what might you two be doing out this late after curfew?" They both stiffened at the bored tone they knew all too well—Snape.

"Well?" He demanded and they both racked our brain for an excuse. 

"You see, sir. Malfoy here—" 

"(L/N) was sneaking arou—"

"Enough!" He interrupted, clearly not interested in anything either of them had to say. "For disobeying orders, you have just lost Slytherin fifteen points apiece and you will both have detention after your classes tomorrow." 

"But—" 

"Silence Malfoy!" He snapped in a harsh tone. "or else you risk losing another ten points for your attitude." At that, Draco closed his mouth—not wanting to upset Snape more. "Both of you go to bed—now." They both scrambled away from Snape, nearly tripping on the steps as they practically stumbled down them into the dungeon. When Draco reached the bottom, he growled at (Y/N) and she Draco—both of them upset at the turn of events. 

"If you had just let me go, I wouldn't be in this mess with you." Draco snarled nastily.

"Oh—shut up, Malfoy," She grumbled in reply before leaving him to go up to her room; not wanting to spend another minute around him if she could help it. That was fine. He didn't much care to see her either. 

Draco entered his room with a huff and unceremoniously fell onto his bed. Frustrated with what awaited him tomorrow after class. He tossed and turned all night long, trying in vain to fall asleep but failing miserably. Draco just wanted this day to end. It was proving to be much too big a blow to his pride.

He was not looking forward to detention with _her_.

On the other side of the wall, restless and exhausted—she could say the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I want to sincerely apologize for my absence. Life just got a bit crazy and it drained me of any desire to do much of anything—let alone write. Instead of beating myself up over it, I just took a break. Now, I find myself with a bit too much time on my hands and I'm trying to get back into the swing of things. I hope you guys will forgive me...
> 
> Anyways, let’s just pretend that Draco tried to get Harry caught after curfew.
> 
> What will await these two when they're stuck in a room together?
> 
> Till next time~


	7. Reluctant Pair

* * *

_** You ** _

* * *

She was really not looking forward to this.

Sighing, (F/N) packed up her textbooks and started making her way to that dreaded place. Snape told them in Potions class earlier today that they would be having detention in his office. Two whole hours stuck in the same room doing God-knows-what with Mafloy. 

This is is going to be so much fun.

The closer she got to Snape’s office, the more reluctant she was to go. She wanted to desperately slow her pace down, to somehow avoid the matter entirely but knew that Snape would only get more upset the longer she waited. So, she continued on; dragging her feet the entire way.

Snape’s door came into view all too soon and with a huff, she opened the door—trying to prepare herself for what was to come. She spotted Draco standing near the front of the room next to the many shelves of glass beakers holding an assortment of strange objects that she couldn't put a name to. When he turned his head and sent a nasty glare toward her, she returned it with equal fervor.

"Good." Droned Snape, "You're here. Now we can begin." He rose up from his seat and went to a room in the back, levitating several boxes back with him with a flick of his wand and set them on the table. "I want both of you to organize these files, copy any of the damaged ones and alphabetically organize them without the use of magic. I want at least _ten_ boxes done before your detention is over. Now, stop your gaping and get started." 

They both quickly shut our mouths at his remark and wandered over to the stack of boxes. Snape watched them from his desk with careful eyes for a moment before returning to grading papers. Leaving her and Draco to work together and sort through the mess of files. (F/N) internally groaned when she opened one of the boxes and saw a large number of files laying haphazardly inside the box. If they were to meet Snape's criteria, they had no choice but to work together.

"One of us will have to organize the damaged files into stacks," She started. "so we can start fixing them as soon as possible. Then, the other can—"

"Who are you to tell me what we should do?" Draco snapped as he ripped the top off of another box. "I can approach this however I please."

"Not if you want to finish in time," She said through gritted teeth. "Professor Snape wants us to finish at  _least_ tenboxes in two hours. You mean to tell me you can do that all on your own?" She crossed her arms and glared at him.

Draco was silent for a moment before answering, knowing full and well that it was practically impossible. "Alright—fine," He huffed. "But don't you dare slow me down." 

"Wouldn't dream of it." She hissed in reply before grabbing one box and placing it between them. "Who's better at writing faster?

"And how am I supposed to know that?" 

"Forget I asked," She said with a roll of her eyes before picking up a piece of parchment, a quill, and then sat down. "Start separating the files so I can begin fixing them.”

Draco groaned before reluctantly picking up a stack and started to sort through them. They both worked in tense silence for a while, with him passing papers to her while she fixed them. It was quiet for the most part because neither of them wanted to talk and risk losing the fragile truce that had settled between them.

"Geez, (L/N)." Draco was the one that ended up breaking the silence. "You write like a five-year-old. I can barely read what you wrote on this last one." 

So much for not talking to each other.

She massaged her cramped hand and put down the quill in a huff. "Fine, Malfoy. If you think you can do better, why don't you do it?"

"Oh, I was already planning on it whether you offered or not." He snatched the quill and started writing, not waiting for her input at all. She bit back the remark that rested on her tongue about how much of a prat he was and instead got up to organize the files.

Within minutes, Draco had managed to nearly double what she had done in half the time. Surprisingly enough he was actually much better than her. His neat and concise handwriting clearly more eligible than hers; although, she would never admit that to his face. Still—they might actually finish in time.

"Would you quit staring at me, (L/N)?" He looked up from his parchment in annoyance. "It's a bit creepy, even for you."

"I was not staring."

"Mhm, sure." He said, lip quirking up in a triumphant smirk. "Are you finally realizing just how talented I am compared to you?"

"Somehow every time you open your mouth, you manage to make my head hurt," She said, feigning an oncoming headache and he rolled his eyes in return. "That's some real talent right there. Tell me does being obnoxious come naturally or did your parents teach you that?"

"I'll have you know, (L/N)." He lifted the quill off the paper and pointed it at her. "My parents are respectable and well-mannered people, which is more than I can say for you."

"Well, at least I'm not a—"

"Silence!" Snape interrupted their banter, reminding both of them that he was still in the room. "If you guys can't work in a civil manner, I will extend your detention to an extra day." He narrowed his eyes threateningly and they both bowed their heads in a silent apology.

"Nice one, (L/N)" She kicked his shin in reply, eliciting a small yelp from him before Snape cleared his throat once more and they went back to work.

After Snape's attention had gone back to grading, they resigned to throwing each other nasty looks—neither of them wanting to risk another day in detention. The minutes slowly dragging by as she continued to organize in silence before it was broken once again.

"What happened to your parents anyway?" Draco looked up in question, his face in a scowl but his eyes betrayed a sense of curiosity in them. "Were they not around enough to teach you manners or any type of skills for that matter?" She drew her lips into a thin line and looked away. When she didn't reply, his eyebrows rose up in surprise. "Merlin, that explains a lot. Did your parents die or something?"

Again she said nothing. The wound was still too fresh and at times it just seemed like a bad dream whenever she ignored the idea. "What's it to you anyway?" She said sharply while crossing her arms—getting slightly defensive on the subject, but trying her best to seem nonchalant. "They simply left me in the care of someone until they return for me. That's all." The lie felt bitter on her tongue when she said it; almost as if she was somehow betraying the memory, or lack thereof, of her parents.

"And how long have they been gone?" He said after matching her posture. 

"That's none of your business." She growled, but the intended malice she wanted to portray in her voice fell short; her words hitching slightly and Draco picked up on it. Suddenly the lines on the table seemed interesting to her and she began tracing them to avoid his stern gaze. To her surprise, he didn't mock her. He simply studied her for a moment before returning to the task at hand. The witch let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding before doing the same.

Neither of them said much after that. Both too preoccupied with their own thoughts and what they were doing—a strange feeling of amity clung in the air as they finished the final box. In the end, they had managed to finish ten boxes before detention was up and Snape was obviously impressed with the amount of work they did. Although, he tried to hide it.

"You both may leave." Snape dismissed them without another word and they awkwardly scrambled out of his office.

Both Draco and (F/N) seemed to have the same idea on where to head to next. Considering neither of them had food since lunch, they both started to head to the Great Hall for dinner—stomachs growling in protest the entire way there. No words were exchanged between them; both too hungry to think about anything else. That—and the fact that each wouldn't dare risk saying something unpleasant that would start a fight neither of them had the energy for. 

When they arrived at the Great Hall, both separated and sat in their respective groups. Draco with his friends and (F/N) with hers. It was relatively uneventful for the most part—well, as much as it could be at Hogwarts. That, however, did not last long. 

"...She has been waiting for her parents to return ever since. Which I think is kind of—"

She could not believe what she had just heard. Draco was talking about her and from the sound of it, it wasn't good. Even if she had lied to him about her parents, her blood started to boil at the idea that he had already started spreading more gossip about her. Anything else he said was lost to her due to the sudden pounding in her ears. For a moment, all she could see was red and her fists clenched on the table. 

She felt like an utter fool. Draco had betrayed her the first chance he got with something that was entirely her business and hers alone. Was it stupid that she had actually believed that he was sincere? Of course, it was. This was Draco Malfoy she was talking about after all. He was proving to be an expert at being a complete and utter prat.

She slammed her hands onto the table, the motion clattering several plates and making a couple of students jump in surprise. With a vengeance, she charged over to where Draco sat and slapped him across the face—not caring who saw or the consequences that her actions would bring.

"I should have known you would pull something like this,” She yelled at him, confusion spreading across his face as he reached up and touched the reddened spot where she had slapped him. “You know—for a moment, I thought you were different, but you’re no better than anyone else. People like you are all the same—completely and utterly selfish with no regard to other's feelings but yourself!"

“—Listen here, you little,“ He interrupted, but she was far too angry to hear his explanation.

”Don’t. I don’t need to hear your pathetic excuse.” She spat venomously and her vision started to blur. She bit her lip in frustration—willing to not let herself cry in front of everyone. “I should have never let my guard down around you. I won’t make that same mistake again.” Her voice slightly faltered at the end and she turned around before bursting out of the Great Hall. The tears started to fall then.

As she made her way back, she furiously wiped the tears that had started to stream down relentlessly. She didn't know why she was crying. After all, why should it matter what he said? She lied to him—none of what she said was true. Perhaps it was the idea that he had seen her vulnerable and blatantly disregarded it. Maybe it was the idea that she had believed in him enough to believe that he wouldn't stoop so low. Apparently, she had misjudged him.

She wouldn't make that mistake again.

She promised herself that night that she wouldn't let her guard down around him anymore. This was the last time anything like that would happen again if she could help it. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand there we have it. The forced interaction between the two led to some mixed feelings for each other. Well, that and Draco's big mouth got him in some trouble again. Will he ever learn?
> 
> Please let me know what you guys thought of this chapter!
> 
> See you all in the next chapter~


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